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So 

Foices of the City 



T^ JU- 



Of this Edition but Five Hundred 
Coiiies Were Printed. This 
Book Is Number J- 0<i> 



r 









'IN 1 HIS OEKP WOOD NO DRIP OK MURMURING STREAMS" 

— In The Forestry Building 



Voices of the City 



BY 



MARION COOK STOW 



Author of "Where Flows Hood River" and 
"The Child and the Dream" 



WITH ORIGINAL DRAWINGS AND DECORATIONS 



THE METROPOLITAN PRESS 

PORTLAND, OREGON 

1909 






C:ci.a::;;io;v; 






^ 






Copyright. 1909, by Marlon Cook Stow 



TO PORTLAND: 
ITS GROWTH AND POWER 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



"In this deep wood no drip of murmuring 

streams" .... Frontispiece 

"A passing grace 
Is lent by lanterned balconies" . . Page 1 3 

"When from the mountains slip the loosening 

snows" Page 1 7 

"With some the ^eet allures" . . Page 23 

"I turn aside 
From bits of tangled vi^as" . . . Page 27 



CONTENTS 






Page 


The Call of the City .... 11 


In Chinatown 








12 


The Harbor at Night 








14 


Wires . 








15 


The Meadow Lark 








16 


Fe^ival Days 








18 


In the Forestry Building 








19 


Dawn . 








20 


The Song of the River 








21 


The Street 








22 


When Ships Go Down . 








24 


The Spirit of the Night 








25 


From Gorgeous Heights . 








26 


Suburbs 








28 


The Night Pageant 








29 


Newsboys 








30 



^W^HAT is this tumult borne upon the air, 

¥ ■ W This clamorous strife? O city, nearly great! 

The benedictions of a knowing Fate 
Have been but whispered, yet the inevitable care 
Of each day's toil, where competition bare 
Invigorates the fray, doth still await 
Thy every hour; and all too passionate 
Doth rule the courage that would win and dare. 

Yet this thy call ; this ceaseless, restless strain. 

These hands outstretched for more, — nor pity 
sought 
For calmer moments. . . Evermore, I think, 

Wilt thou be calling, evermore for gain! 
But O beware, lest gold and fame be bought 

With thy heart's blood. Thou standesi at the 
brinl( ! 



THE 

CALL 

OF 

THE 
CITY 



11 



II. 



I WANDER through the quaint, odd-looking 
street 
That speaks of other worlds; the dingy face 
Of each tall front stares down. A passing 
grace 
Is lent by lanterned balconies, and sweet 
Azalia blooms that tempt my loitering feet 

To climb and see where in this sordid place, 
Lurks beauty all unguessed; what curious race 
Is this in which both art and grimness meet! ' 

And, shuddering, I cast a furtive peep 

Up dimly-lighted stairs that seem to keep 

Their ghostly secrecy in light of day, 

And call to eerie flights of mystery! 

Lives piled on lives! How far away they seem! 
And all this but the likeness of a dream! 



IN 
CHINATOWN 



12 




"A PASSING GRACE 
IS LENT BY LANTERNED BALCONIES" 



-In Chinatown 



13 



III. 



OIM phantom ships moored to a phantom shore; 
Athwart the sky in tangled maze, the spars 
Cross and recross; low-hung beneath the 
stars, 
The moon shines pale through mists of gray flung o'er 
The city's smothered din. An hour before. 

The west was all a-flame; now evening's bars 
Shut out the day ; earth's garish mind that wars 
Within itself, tastes peace — and sighs for more. 

The lazy river laps against the piers. 

Stirred by a faint night- wind; cool shadows fall 
And fill the silence; gleaming paths of gold 

Shine from the harbor beacons . . Wan- 
dering years 
Sink back upon themselves before it all. 

And fancy leads away to night's dream-fold! 



THE 

HARBOR 
AT 
NIGHT 



14 



IV. 



nIKE some caged bird within whose plumed 
breast, 
The fires of freedom burn a steady flare — 
Though all in vain he beats the resisting air, 
Mad with his longing — , so a sharp unrest 
Is mine beneath these wires. I feel close-pressed. 
Caught by a seeming net, within whose snare 
Nor day nor night I hold a rightful share 
Of liberty, full-breathing, man-expressed. 

O beating wings! O flutter of delight 

At empty spaces reaching to the night! 

At seamless blue unmarred by crude device! 

Men's aids and arts are purchased with a price. 

And something of his finer self he yields 

As entrance-fee into invention's fields. 



WIRES 



15 



^Tf^HEN from the mountains slip the loosening 

■ I I snows, 

^"^^ And pussy-willows spread their furry tails; 
When memory of erstwhile winter pales 

Before spring's softer airs; when swifter flows 

Each liny, noisy stream and all earth knows 
A fuller life and action that assails 
Its every mood and phase; when wide prevails 

The scents that waft the opening of the rose — 

Oh then, from every open space and clear 

Comes a familiar call — thrice-welcome sound! 

A thrilling, flute-like note that cleaves the air 

With sweetest music. Far above the ground 

He rises, borne on swift, exultant wing — 

The meadow lark, dear harbinger of spring! 



THE 

MEADOW LARK 



16 




"WHEN FROM THE MOUNTAINS SLIP THE LOOSENING 
SNOWS" 



-The Meadow Lark 



17 



VI. 



XF you should ask to what I might compare 
These rose-strewn days, in truth I could not 
say; 
This fragrant and bewildering array, 
These masses that incense the very air 
And make one well-nigh dizzy with their rare, 
Intoxicating glory. Each new day 
Brings inexhaustible delights. Away 
With morbid moods! Away with gruesome care! 

The city pours its crowd down every street 

(All gaily bunting-swathed and banner-hung). 

Nor rest they with the waning of the light; 

For dazzling lamps the hues of day repeal. 

And multi-colored gleams the robe that's flung 

Across the stalwart shoulders of the night! 



FESTIVAL 
DAYS 



18 



VII. 



VAST silence upon silence, huge, profound; 
In this deep wood no drip of murmuring 
streams. 
Nor sudden glory of warm solar beams; 
Naught save the stillness; and above, around. 
The dusky haze of twilight. Once the sound 

Of countless happy birds awoke the dreams 
Of these tremendous trees, and silver gleams 
Of moonlight spread their covering on the ground. 

And now behold, what wondrous change is wrought! 

The trees in their immensity still stand. 
But ranged are they down artificial aisles 

In grim, majestic wonder. . . . What sad 
thought 
Must fill their lonely night, since human hand 

Is helpless in these man-made afterwhilesi 



IN 

THE 

FORESTRY 

BUILDING 



19 



VIII. 



^^^^HE night grows pale; the fingers of the morn- 
^ J Lay hold upon the day. Against the sky 
^^^ The houses loom like sentinels with eye 
Close on the dawn. A waking life is born 
To all the waiting world. No more forlorn 

And futile seems the strife; and industry 
Grows roseate with hopes and prophecy. 
And thoughts of men less weary and less worn. 

Now glows the gray to gold, and shafts of light 

Send amber gleams a-dancing o'er the town; 

The city's pulse-beats quicken; hurrying feet 

Dispel the sleeping thrall of sound and sight; 

And when the sun hath climbed unto his own, 

He finds submission to his reign complete! 



DAWN 



20 



IX. 



^^^^HRO' sunlit fields and wooded hills I come 
^ J ( Ve ffiioiv me not for I am from afar), 
^^^ And in my birth-home naught there is to mar 
The pure reflected day. 1 he ceaseless hum 
Of my own murmur is the quiet sum 

Of aught that breaks the silence. All this war 
Of petty tongues is stilled; the creeds that are 
For life, are lived; and justice is not dumb. 

But ihou, O city! where can peace be found 

Within thy gates, however fair they be? 

Thou hast a glamour, yet thou dost not shine 

As do the stars that swing their nightly round; 

And all thy ways breathe not such honesty 

As whispers from the forest's heart to mine. 



THE 

SONG 

OF 

THE 

RIVER 



21 



X. 



^-■^ITH some the street allures; its cleaving tide 
■ ^ I 1 (Its swirling sea of faces and of things), 
^^■^ An actual, imminent satisfaction brings. 
This, then, their food; with this their needs allied; 
On this wide stage their parts identified, 

A-swing with action — like the huge three-rings 
Of some great wonder-show which quite o'er- 
flings 
Itself in modes and pleasures magnified. 

I feel not so; give me the quiet airs 

Of country lanes; the free and glad extent 
Of star-specked blue at close of summer's day! 

Here let me claim a virile thought that dares 
To be its veritable self; here be content 

To fashion life from something more than 
clay! 



THE 
STREET 



^fflJtet 



22 




WITH SOME THE STREET ALLURES' 



23 



XL 



^■■^HEN ships go down into the waiting deep, 
1 I # What various treasures fill each yawning hold, 
^^^ From fields and forests dense; and, mayhap, 

gold 
Forced from th' reluctant ore. Their trust to keep 
This harvest for less favored lands to reap, 

These dear-bought bounties truly manifold! 

And daring are those hearts and doubly bold 
Who thus the stale's resources wrest from sleep. 

But other things there be; the futile tears 

Of mother-hearts — the parting and the pain! 

And laddies far from home, with memories 

Alone to cheer the weeks that may be years; 

And so, I think, stored with the gold and grain. 

The brave ships bear the burden of their 
sighs ! 



WHEN 
SHIPS 
GO 
DOWN 



24 



XII. 



O MYSTERY time! O wonder-breathing 
night! 
What chain of fellowship invisible 
Unites the toiling hearts that with thee dwell! 
How patient, at the waning of the light, 
They take their stand, ere lost to waking sight. 

To labor thro' the hours! How powerful 
The link thus forged, tho' imperceptible, 
That binds the days with weldings infinite! 

The darkness is as naught. Instead, it brings 
But closer in its wide, alluring thrall. 

These guardians of dreamers. Here the din 

Of sordid day is hushed, and nameless things 

Are seen for what they are; while thro' it all. 

Beat the low heart-throbs of the life within! 



THE 

SPIRIT 

OF 

THE 

NIGHT 



25 



XIII. 



IT matters not just when; at birth of day. 
Or top-most height of sun; or at the rose 
Of its fair setting, when the mountains lose 
Their frigid white and, blushing, fade away 
To faint night-dreamings — any time, I say, 

This view is wondrous fair, and I suppose 
Is dearer still to him who need not choose 
His hour, but has it with him endlessly. 

But as for me, to-night I turn aside 

From bits of tangled vistas, to the town 

Spread sprawling at my feet. The twinkling sky 
Is matched below by diamonds multiplied 

In dancing lights. ... I wonder, looking down. 
Which is the star-swung space — the low or 
high? 



FROM 

GORGEOUS 

HEIGHTS 



26 




■"I TURN ASIDE 
FROM BITS OF TANGLED VISTAS" 



-From Gorgeous Heights 



27 



XIV. 



HS some wee infant demonstrates its worth 
All gradually, and for its daily food 
Receives whatever to fond parenthood 
Could best avail, — so these choice bits of earth 
First from the city have their legal birth 

And nourishment, until each one has stood 
The test of boom and, haply, proven good; 
(Thus swells the city's ever-widening girth.) 

Then presently they stand in strength alone, 

Their primal freshness rivalhng the call 

From fragrant, song-filled woods. Men grant their 
claim; 
They flock at first to see and then to own; 

And wouldst thou fain withstand their tempting thrall^ 
Be wise, O friend, for legion is their nsone! 



SUBURBS 



\M 



28 







XV. 






^ 


^OFT twilight 


settling 


down 


1 ; a murmuring 


tP 


' J throng 








K^ 


Close-banked 


beside 


the c 


urb. On either 




hand 










A sharp line 


fixed; 


like : 


solid walls they 




stand. 








Immovable and patient 


. All along 




The 


crowd is duplicate 


id. Here belong 




The toiler and the idler 


, and demand 




Is made on all 


who share this 


fragrant land 


For 


pride that's more than sentiment 


and song. 


And hark, the band! 


See now the 


leaders draw 




In sight! The 


march 


moves 


down its glitter- 




ing ways, 









And dazzling floats their glad surprises bring. 

These huge designs seem almost without flaw, 
These sights the best that all the happy days 

Have offered as a tribute to their king! 



THE 

NIGHT 

PAGEANT 



29 



XVI. 



SE sturdy urchins of the city's breed, 
From stern necessity, on its cold flood 
Upborne and swept almost aside; ye brood 
Of scarcely more than babes! Yet in your need 
Playing the man and cancelling mere creed 

For active service and crude brotherhood ; 
What gain is yours to have thus loyal stood 
Amid the subtle sloth that v^ould impede! 

How fares the strife? What patience have ye 
wrought 
In meeting men? WTiat glean ye from the 
fray? 
Think not the buffets dealt ye unawares 

Shall have the power to overrule in thought 
What love doth offer for each passing day. 

Nor that earth's evil with the good compares! 



NEWSBOYS 



30 



,EFe 10 



Voices 

Of 



MARION 
COOK 
STOW 




^ ♦ 'l^ "^ • SIS * V Vj 













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